


outside the Church there is no salvation

by taoris



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe - Demons, Atsukita brainrot so intense i cant anymore, Blasphemy, Demon x Priest AU, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taoris/pseuds/taoris
Summary: The devil’s form is a paradox. His eyes shine as its irises turn red under the gleam of the moonlight while youthful innocence sets under those long inviting lashes. His small face is like a curse of soft polished selenite; a carving of his jaw so sharp and raw the Priest’s fingers would prick shall he touch its magnificence, and its lips a pale rosewood, delicate yet so plump that when Atsumu notices he’s slowly leaning into it, he is almost unable to stop himself.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76
Collections: My beloved stories





	outside the Church there is no salvation

Darkness covers the ceiling and a pair of eyelashes lifts from where it rested, a hand reaching out subconsciously to the steel cross lying on his chest. It’s the former abbot’s parting gift as he bid farewell to Atsumu and other priests to head into a monastery on the other side of the country. He grips on the metal tightly, remembering the holy man’s very last words to him,  _ “May this protect you from evil.” _

His chest is still heavy from exhaustion of the nightmare he has awakened from, a dream taking him back to one of his silly childhood antics. An antic he should’ve known better not to have done.

“It was just a nightmare...” he whispers to himself as he takes long sharp breaths. The bed creaks as Atsumu sits up, weight leaning into the hands clenching on the sides of his mattress. “Just a nightmare. A horrible nightmare.” he repeats.

“Yes, it is.” replies a voice from nowhere.

Atsumu jumps at the sudden interruption of chants that seem to barely have calmed him, neck craning to his sides, looking for the person who has intruded his bedchamber at such an ungodly hour.

“Who’s there?” Atsumu’s hand rises back to the rosary on his chest, its coldness against the warmth of his palm sending an uncomfortable churn in his stomach.

Silence fills the room as Atsumu waits for a response, observing the darkness in his small chamber. His unkempt bed has been disheveled from his sleep and its sheets crumpled in every corner. His soutane hangs on the wall unmoving in its rack, a bible lies on a wooden table beside his bed. The table corners are filled with crawling springtails illuminated by the moonlight. Atsumu seeks comfort at being alone this time and deduces that his mind is playing games with him brought upon by his nightmare and any voice he’s hearing in his head is a byproduct of the bad dream of his younger self chanting an incantation, a silly joke his teenage self has regretted since.

He releases a sigh and massages his temple upon finding his breathing evening after a while, taking off his stare at the cracks spidering along the walls of his room. “Everything is fine.” He tells himself, taking the bible from the bedside and putting it on his lap. “Everything will be fine.”

Two fingers lift up to his forehead,  _ In the name of the father _ . Down to his chest,  _ and of the son _ . It crosses to one of his shoulders,  _ and of the holy spirit _ . Onto the other,  _ amen _ . He clasps his hands together as he shuts his eyes, letting darkness envelop him as he raises his fears up to his salvation.

“Our father...” he starts.

“...who art in heaven.” follows the voice earlier as he prays and Atsumu immediately opens his eyes, lower lip shaking, afraid to supply the remaining of the prayer.

A slight tickle of breath on his right ear confirms the presence of somebody else in the room aside from the Priest. He is sure the door to his chambers is locked before he has slept, Atsumu is also aware that it is the middle of the night and no other member of the clergy shall be awake by this time. So whoever is dabbling with his prayers could only be a creature of the night Atsumu always has been fearful of.

“Where are you? Who are you?” He stutters, he feels the lump in his throat as he tries to gulp in order to save his drying mouth. He refuses to be afraid. His God is with him, he should not be afraid.

“Oh, who am I?” He feels a touch of a finger, warm and light, right below his ear dragging all the way to his neck, down to his shoulder blade.

_ His God is with him, he should not be afraid. _

Beads of sweat are starting to form on his temple and Atsumu is frozen in his position. He hears a chuckle and slowly shifts his vision to where the voice is coming from.

_ His God is with him, he should not be afraid. _

The devil’s form is a paradox. His eyes shine as its irises turn red under the gleam of the moonlight while youthful innocence sets under those long inviting lashes. His small face is like a curse of soft polished selenite; a carving of his jaw so sharp and raw the Priest’s fingers would prick shall he touch its magnificence, and its lips a pale rosewood, delicate yet so plump that when Atsumu notices he’s slowly leaning into it, he is almost unable to stop himself. Eyes widening as the devil smiles at him.

“Proceed, holy man.” The devil urges. “Consume me.”

And it comes to him. The enlightenment of the damned.

“K-Kita...” The Priest locks its eyes onto the devil’s, its name now as clear as his every dream.  _ Kita Shinsuke _ . The demon of Atsumu awakened years ago. Who every night since has never stopped bothering him. Seeking the comfort of the church has brought calm and safety to Atsumu thinking it would stop all the appearances, the claiming, the endless voices in his head and the never ending guilt at nights. Yet here is the creature he so fears, unflinching in such a holy place.

It is the first time Shinsuke has appeared in years before him and if it isn’t for his voice, melodic and graceful with such a distinct tone, the name wouldn’t have gone back in his mind. But it has etched its existence in Atsumu’s brain like it’s become a part of him that he’s only buried through his holy robes. And robes fall off, robes burn, robes disintegrate. The demon’s mark on him does not.

“You remember me, Priest.” Atsumu could decipher the joy in the demon’s voice. “Your sanctification only binds us together, did you not think of that before seeking sanctuary in this chamber?”

“I only know  _ my _ God, that I will only serve.” The Priest says, hand rising in impulse to seek the rosary on his chest. Yet the moment his palm lands on his heart there is only warmth coming from his skin. The steel cross is nowhere to be found. He jolts in surprise. Where is his  _ protection _ ?

“If you are seeking a weapon to send me away, remember Priest, you called upon me first. This is your own doing.” Kita leans closer to him, their noses a width of hair strand apart. Atsumu’s eyes widens, losing his breath at the intimacy and his brain fixating on how warm another body feels next to him. “You think you can undo what you’ve put yourself upon? You think your God will take away your desires, Priest?  _ For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and turmoil in your heart—comes not from your God but from the world. _ I have been here because of you. I have been your world, Priest.”

“Do not alter the words of the Apostle...” Atsumu lets out a breath he’s holding and looks up, eyes locking with the demon.

“Won’t you consume me the way you did before?” Kita’s hand snakes up to Atsumu’s neck, ignoring the Priest. He shivers at how the familiarity of his warmth is so disturbing, yet so heavenly intoxicating. “Won’t you let our bodies intertwine, lock up our mouths, mount me to the only heaven I can reach, Priest? Won’t you?”

The pleads always get to Atsumu. His voice, in every corrupting way possible, is angelic in its blasphemic persuasion. Atsumu hates this, he has confessed to the head priest about this sinning. Over and over again. It’s easier before because the devil has not appeared in form aside from the dreams. It is easier to pretend that the guilt in between his thighs has never happened. But now, with his voice so sultry before him, its neck craning as an invitation, the demon’s breath ghosting over his skin, he’s lost all practice of abstinence he has endured in his years of stay in the monastery.

As if reaching for the rosary, his hand lifts up on its own to grasp the hand resting on his neck. Atsumu guides it down to his chest, eyes not leaving the demon’s face, so beautiful, so exquisite and tantalizing. A tender smile appears on the demon’s mouth before it claims his.

With every movement of their mouth over each other, Atsumu has forgotten every verse in the book he has committed to his memory. When Atsumu lies down and the demon settles itself above him, mounting itself on the expanse of Atsumu’s temple, all sins and virtues seem to have dissolved—and there are only the nakedness, the darkness, the holy bodies, the noises of skin to skin slapping against each other, of sweat and saliva, of pleasure and madness, of moans and gasps, of each trail of kisses and bites, the marks of their lips on each other’s skins.

When the demon reaches his high, its wings of coal expands, shaking simultaneously in its repletion. Its tail curls and slaps itself on the bed in greatest pleasure.

Kita lies above Atsumu, the Priest heaving and exhausted from his own peak. When the demon looks up to him, a devious smile is planted on its face.

“I cannot describe what magnificence it is to consummate our marriage.” The demon says, drawing circles on the Priest’s naked chest where his holy rosary used to lie.

Atsumu only stays in complete silence. Guilt slowly rising up to his heart yet, unable to deny that this feels so good. That it feels so wonderful to have claimed his husband again after years of seeking refuge in the house of the church. In the house where he thought could separate him from his holy other.

He closes his eyes as the demon settles itself in between the space of his neck and shoulder. Salvation shall come another lifetime for him.

**Author's Note:**

> this is another contribution to saelove's atsukita demon x priest au because i just couldn't stop thinking about it. i decided not to make the sexual parts graphic as it just kinda ruins the mood of whatever this thing is. also yes, atsukita. i'm @kur0kenma on twitter in case somebody wants to send my soul to hell.


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